It sucks having Alfred as a brother
by ladyaicilef
Summary: Mathew was having a wonderful day...that is until Francis decided tell Mathew the truth. Rated T for brief language and for France being France. Mentioned USUK and slight Franada.


My day was going great, you know? I woke up, fed Kumichawa, made some nice strong coffee and added in some maple syrup. My day started out like they usually do, and I was in a great mood! The weather was nice, too! It was about twenty five degrees Celsius, it was nice and sunny…yeah you get it. It was a good morning. What also had me in a good mood was that Francis was coming over to visit. I quickly tidied up my house and l lit my maple candle in the kitchen. I sighed contently when I inhaled the light maple scent, and then decided to treat myself with a Tim Hortons stop.

I stepped onto one of the many busy sidewalks in Ottawa and let Kumikama climb on my back and sit on my shoulders, "Who are you?" he practically yelled in my ear, causing me to jump.

"Kumakuma! It's me…you know Mathew…your _owner_?" I sighed in defeat, then continued my way toward the closest Timmies.

When I made it to the store, I walked in with a smile on my face. The friendly cashier that always worked mornings smiled at me, "Hello ! The usual?"

"Yes, please," I said, then eyes the display case, "And I'll also have a six pack of maple donuts."

The woman nodded, then got me my extra-large double-double and my box of donuts. I thanked her then left the store. I sighed happily, "This is a nice day, isn't it Kumiwa?"

Kumiwa just whined, "I'm hungry! I wanna donut!"

I sighed and handed him a donut that he shovelled down in less than three seconds. When we got home, I sat down on my sofa and relaxed with my coffee and donuts. I decided to turn on the news and watch TV until Francis came over.

. . . . .

At about quarter to two, my doorbell rang. I practically tripped over my coffee table, trying to get to the door. I opened it to see familiar silky wavy locks, well-trimmed stubble, and sparkling sky blue eyes. "Papa!" I yelled (well actually I said it just above a whisper, but that's yelling to me), and threw my arms around him.

Francis laughed, "Oh hon! You seem happy to see me, mon cher!" He wrapped his arms around me as well.

I had to break the hug fairly quickly before Francis got any ideas, then I led him into the living room. "So, you need anything? I have coffee, pancakes, and maple syrup, eh?"

Francis simply smiled and shook his head, "No thanks, you haven't changed at all, Mathieu~"

I smiled and sat down beside Francis, who was sitting casually on the couch with his left ankle resting on his right knee. Francis scooted closer to me and slung his arm around my shoulder, "You don't know how much I missed you~" he cooed as he squeezed me close to him, "It's a bore over at home, oui? It's no fun trying to stalk Arthur anymore because he's always at Alfred's house! Mon dieu."

I frowned. I didn't understand what was so great about Arthur (no offence to him!). He always had messy hair, his eyebrows were…well you know. But not only that, he always had a negative personality, and acted like he hated the world. Also, I didn't understand how Francis _still_ peeked in his windows and broke into his house at night, even though Arthur was going out with Alfred. I sighed, "I'm sure you can find more ways to spend time alone, papa."

Francis simply shrugged, then let go of my shoulder and slung his arm across the back of the couch.

The day was going great. We were catching up on each other's lives and throwing in the occasional joke about Arthur (oh please don't let him find out!). After about an hour, I noticed that Francis got quiet. I looked over to see what he was doing and my smile slowly changed into a frown. Francis' eyes were scanning me up and down. I squirmed uncomfortably, _oh great…he's being a pervert_. His eyes travelled up my figure one more time, then he met my eyes. Then I noticed something else…Francis was frowning.

I suddenly felt very self-conscious. Francis was the kind of man who thought that everything in the world was beautiful. Whenever he checked someone out, his expression would _always _change into a seductive smirk. _Always._ If Francis Bonnefoy checks someone out, and ends up with a frown on his face, it either means that that person is the ugliest thing he ever laid his eyes on, or they were on the ground dying. I'm pretty sure I wasn't dying.

"Wh-what's wrong?" I said, wrapping my arms around my torso.

"Hmm…" Francis stroked his stubble, checking me out one last time. His expression didn't change.

"F-Francis?" I was feeling extremely uncomfortable at that moment.

"May I ask a question, mon cher?" he finally said after what seemed like millions of hours.

"Sure…" I squeaked.

"How often do you hang out with Alfred?"

I blinked in confusion. What did that have to do with me being the ugliest thing on the planet? I absently scratched my head, and answered the question anyway, "Well…a couple times a week. Actually, we hang out quite a bit."

"Hmm…" Francis repeated, "Have you picked up any…" he thought for a second, "Any habits from him? Does he influence you at all?"

I felt my left eye twitch. At that point I was extremely confused, "No, uh, I don't think so. Francis, I'm confused."

Francis let a sigh escape from his nose, then he locked eyes with me, "Mathieu, I love you, and you are really important to me. So I think you deserve to know the truth, because I am concerned about you."

_Concerned about my ugliness?_ "Um…okay…" I whispered, "Y-you can tell me the truth…I won't get…mad."

Francis gripped both of my shoulders. His stare was so intense, and it kinda creeped me out, "Mathieu," he said in a deep serious voice, "You are gaining weight."

I was so shocked at what he said. I stuttered some nonsense before I got extremely defensive, "I am not!" I said, "I take perfectly good care of myself!"

"I am sure you do, but maybe you're not watching your food as much as a should."

"I do so! I'm just not as skinny as you because I don't only suck back snails all day!" I automatically slapped my palms over my mouth and my eyes were probably the size of those glowing UFO's on Alfred's ceiling.

Francis just nodded, then took a sip from his wine glass before speaking, "I see, so Alfred is influencing you without you realizing. My poor petite chou-chou!" he pouted, then looked at me with sad eyes, "How often do you eat?"

I slowly removed my hands from my mouth, "Um…I eat three meals a day with the occasional snack and coffee in between."

"What do you eat for snacks?"

"Donuts and muffins." I then realized how bad that sounded.

Francis nodded again, "What do you take in your coffee"

"Well, I get an extra-large with two cream and two sugars."

"And where do you eat your meals?"

I gulped before answering, "Tim Hortons…" I said shamefully.

"OH HON!" Francis burst out, causing me to jump five feet off the couch, "So you are like a Canadian version of Alfred!"

"No!" I snapped, getting defensive again, "I am nothing like my brother!"

"True, personality wise," Francis slid over beside me and wrapped his arms around me, "My poor petite chou-chou~" he cooed, causing my face to turn red out of embarrassment, "Don't you realize that chowing down on pastries and sugar filled coffee all day is bad for you? You never used to eat like this!"

That's when I agreed to what Francis was saying. He was right; I never used to eat like that until I started to hang out with Alfred a lot. He would always wave some cash in my face and offer to buy me something at Timmies or Dunkin' Donuts (I'm not cheap…I'd pay Alfred back eventually!). Eventually, I absently picked up that habit and started buying snacks with my own money when I was by myself. And to be honest, more than half the time, I'm not even hungry!

I buried my face in my hands, ashamed of myself for breaking a promise I made to myself a long time ago when Alfred broke my plastic Pikachu and claimed that there was a fruit fly on it, so he whipped it down the stairs. I swore I would never be like him.

Francis, with his arms still around me, rubbed his cheek against the side of my head like some kind of creepy perverted cat, "Don't worry, Mathieu~ you can lose those extra pounds in a snap if you get some exercise."

"Yeah! You're right!" I said, standing up to pick up our mugs and wine glasses only to feel my ass get squeezed.

I squeaked in surprise and felt my face heat up, then cautiously looked back at Francis, "Don't fret, my dear, you're still sexy as always." Francis said in his provocative low voice, then winked at me, causing a shiver to slither up my spine.

I let out a breathless, 'huh,' in response, "Pervert…" I mumbled under my breath as I set the dishes in the sink.

. . . . .

Later that night, I decided to pick up my phone and call a certain obnoxious, ignorant, immature, irresponsible American. I tapped my foot impatiently as the phone rang, "Howdy! This is the hero speaking!" I cringed when I heard my brother scream on the other line.

"Alfred! It's all your fault that I'm gaining weight, you know?" I snapped, straining to make my voice sound loud and angry.

I could hear a snort on the other line, then I heard Alfred clear his throat, "Sorry, wrong number!" Then he hung up.

I stood there with my mouth agape as I listened to the endless _beeeeeeeeeeee…_ after Alfred hung up on me. I hung up my phone and tossed it on the couch, "Fuck you Alfred F. Jones."

**A/N: Yaay! I got this idea while I ate a hamburger today o.e Hope ya enjoyed! ^^ Please review!**

**\( ^ J^)/ Da?**


End file.
